From Paris, With Love
by piccolina789
Summary: Sara takes her first one-week trip back to Paris to visit her husband. Romance and fluff ensues. Set in season 10. Contains a first attempt at SMUT... and some bad French. I tried!
1. Sunday

**A/N: I know this has been done before (and done very well), but the ideas started flowing, and I had to let them out! Takes place circa season 10, obviously. **

**I haven't been in a French class for almost two years, so any misspellings or grammar issues in French are my fault. Enjoy!**

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* * *

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_Sunday (Dimanche) _

Gil stood at the entrance to Charles de Gaulle airport, red rose clutched in hand, his heart beating as furiously as if he were a 15-year-old about to go on his first date. He bit his lip absentmindedly, his fingers tapping anxiously against the stem of the flower.

And then he saw her. Brown hair tousled from what was most likely a restless flight, her equally brown eyes were scanning the crowd in anticipation. And then she saw him.

Her face lit up and her mouth stretched into a wide, full grin. Gil felt a deep warmth wash over him as she approached, he had missed her more than he could have ever imagined. Now just a few feet from him, she abandoned the small carry-on she was dragging and quickened her pace, closing the space between them. He opened his arms and she fell into them.

"I missed you so much," she breathed into his neck the moment his arms wrapped around her.

"I missed you too, honey," he whispered back, relishing the familiar smell of her shampoo.

She looked up at him, and he smiled down at her, tracing her jaw line with light fingers. Six weeks had been too long.

He felt Sara leaning into him, and he moved towards her, their noses and foreheads touching.

"I love you," Sara breathed, barely audible above the hustle and bustle of the travelers surrounding them.

"I love you, too."

Gil brushed his lips against hers, feeling an unexpected quiver in his legs as his body reacted to being touched by her once more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers becoming lost in his hair as she deepened the kiss. He returned her passion eagerly, aware that they looked like a pair of hormone-crazed teenagers displaying a very good example of PDA, but not caring in the least bit. He was too distracted by the softness of her lips, the slight pant in her breath and the feel of her tongue darting around his.

When they finally broke away, Gil held up the rose, smiling at her.

"For you, my dear."

Sara bit her lip and smiled, looking both on the verge of tears and elation at the same time. She took the rose from him as he gathered her things. Slipping an arm around her waist, they walked out of the crowded terminal together, her head buried in his shoulder.

Six weeks had been far too long.

* * *

Good thing it was late on a Sunday night, and barely any of Paris' patrolling police cars were out. His fingers intertwined in Sara's, Gil could barely keep his attention on the road, opting instead to stare at his beautiful wife seated beside him, causing the car to drift, several times, over the yellow lines.

"Gil!"

Sara's voice and her nudge into his shoulder tore his eyes away from her and, reluctantly, back onto the road once more. He swerved back quickly.

"I can't stop looking at you," he said, squeezing her fingers.

"Do I have something on my face?" she teased, squeezing back.

"Just beauty."

He turned to face her, blue eyes meeting brown, and the corners of Sara's mouth turned up once more.

"How was your flight?" he asked.

"Okay," she responded with a slight shrug. "Long."

"How was your last case?"

"It was a case."

"Sara."

"What?" she asked lightly, a look of innocence on her face.

"I told you to keep me updated," he said. "I want to know everything you do."

"I already told you everything," she replied.

And she had. During their nightly conversations, Sara would tell him all about her cases, but more importantly, all about the team that he had left behind so many months ago. She told him how Catherine was slowly embracing her leadership position, how good it was to see Nick again, and how well Greg had progressed since they'd last been in Vegas. How Ecklie was still uptight, how Hodges was still a kiss-ass and how Ray was flourishing in his own right.

"Besides, I don't want to talk about the lab right now," she finished.

She pulled her fingers from Gil's grasp and put her hand lightly on his thigh, just high enough to cause a great lurch in the pit of his stomach. Before he knew it, she was leaning over the console, breathing into his ear and kissing his neck.

"I want to show you how much I missed you."

Her voice low and husky, it took all Gil's strength not to pull the car over and take her right then.

"Let's at least make it home first, honey," he managed to say.

But the strain in his voice gave him away.

* * *

They made it home, barely. No sooner had Sara dropped her bag onto the kitchen table, than Gil was striding towards her, unwrapping the scarf from around her neck and sliding her chocolate colored leather jacket down off her shoulders. She smiled at him, taking his head in her hands and pressing her lips against his. She wore a tank top under her jacket, and Gil reveled in the feel of his skin against hers. He had dreamed about the feeling for many a night. He felt goose bumps rise on her skin at the touch of his fingers and an overwhelming need for her grew hard and fast within him.

He moved his hands to her waist and backed her against the wall, kissing her fiercely. Her hands gripped at his hair, and his moved around to her backside, pushing up slightly so she was lifted off the floor. She wrapped those long legs around him and Gil couldn't take any more. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, and he tugged it over her. She smiled at him seductively, resuming their kiss as soon as the fabric was out of the way.

He began to walk them towards the bedroom, the contact of their lips never breaking, and tossed her onto the bed. He started kissing her again, first on her lips, then onto her neck and down her exposed stomach. He stopped at the waist of her jeans and gave her a small smile before undoing the button, unzipping the zipper and sliding the jeans down her legs. Gil crawled on top of his wife, admiring the view, and running his hands down her sides.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

He captured his mouth in hers again, his hands roaming.

"Gil," Sara breathed, turning her head slightly so she could speak. "Too many clothes."

Her hands grasped at his shirt, and he helped her pull it over his head.

"Better?" he asked.

"Almost."

She reached for his pants and, much gracefully than he had done, pulled them off of him. She ran her hands across his bare chest.

They let each other explore, hands roaming everywhere, remembering every detail like it had been just yesterday that they'd held and touched each other. Still on top of her, Gil had one hand cupping her face, the other resting on her flat stomach. He began to nip playfully at her skin, and relished in the sound of her gasp.

He made his way down to her waistline and began tugging at her panties. Glancing at her briefly, he could see the need in her eyes. He pulled the fabric down and resumed his kisses almost immediately. When his mouth wandered to her thighs, he kept his hands near her center, slowly pressing one, then two, fingers into her. Sara took a sharp intake of breath.

He took his time pleasuring her, teasing her mercilessly, making slow circles. He snuck another quick glance at her and saw she had removed her bra herself. He redirected his attentions and saw how very wet she was. Still circling, he put his mouth back on her and restarted his teasing, sucking, licking and nipping until Sara's back arched off the mattress, a moan escaping her lips. Gil pulled his mouth away for a moment.

"Come on, honey," he urged her. "Let go."

He slipped his tongue deep inside as her hands gripped his curls, pushing his head even further into her. His fingers moved faster and he could feel her body starting to shudder. He kept at it, hard and fast, until Sara erupted with pleasure. He could feel her heat all around his mouth as she shrieked. He had barely lifted his head before she was pulling him towards her, kissing him hard on the mouth.

"Want you," she moaned. "Now."

Her fingers were pulling frantically at the band of his boxers and he let her tug them down. He took over once they were at his knees, wriggling until they were off, while Sara's hands became busy elsewhere. His errection, already firm and hard, grew somehow even longer at her touch. She stroked and handled him until he couldn't take it any more.

"Sara," he groaned. "I want… I want…"

"What?" she asked with a seductive smile.

"I want to be in you," he managed to whisper. "_Now_."

His hands moved up to pin her wrists against the silky pillowcases and he positioned himself at her entrance. Sara moaned with need.

"Gil."

He palmed her breasts as he slid slowly into her, causing another groan to slip from Sara's lips. He started slow at first, rocking gently, before he gradually started gaining speed, pumping into her, slamming against her body. Sara arched her back again, slipping a finger between them to help them both along.

"Christ, Sara," he panted, beads of sweat beginning to form on his hairline.

She was close, and he could feel it. He wanted nothing more than to make her come again, feel her come while all of himself filled her.

"Go on, Sara," he said into her ear. "Come for me."

Her body started shaking, her legs quivering. She shut her eyes and let the feeling take over, until Gil gave one long, hard push and drove her over the edge. Her fingers grasped at the sheets, and although she felt words slip past her lips, she had no idea what she was saying. They were followed by a long, loud scream.

The moment Sara had shut her eyes, Gil's body went into overdrive. He felt his own orgasm rising within him, growing to meet hers. He let his body take control as he threw his head back and a guttural moan of his own passed his lips.

They collapsed into each other in exhaustion, both panting hard and struggling to catch their breath in the afterglow.

"Jesus, Sara," Gil gasped, lying, flushed, next to her. "No wonder I missed you so much."

Sara rolled over to face him, propping her head in her hands.

"I love you," she said. "So much."

Gil couldn't help but smile. He reached up and tucked an errant strand of her curly brown hair out of her face.

"I love you too, Sara."

* * *

Sara nudged open the bathroom door, tying her hair back into a ponytail before crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, staring at Gil, who was, in turn, staring back at her, a bemused expression on his face.

"What?"

He smiled wider.

"You're beautiful."

She was wearing nothing but one of his oversized t-shirts, a faded blue one that read "2001 Forensic Academy Conference" on the front, those long, long legs Gil loved so much looking even longer in the dim light.

She pursed her lips in response before flipping off the bathroom light and climbing into bed to join him. He held his arms open in response, and she settled her head into his chest as his left arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"Why don't you believe me, Sara?"

"What?"

"Why don't you believe me, when I say you're beautiful?"

She hesitated.

"You know why, Gil."

He did. It almost pained him to recollect Sara's horrific childhood, and the toll it had taken on her confidence, leaving invisible scars that lasted well beyond the foster care days. Before he could think of a response, she spoke again.

"I'm not… a model. Or… an actress. I'm not beautiful, or sexy, or any of those things. I'm just… me."

That actually did pain him. Sara Sidle, so self-assured in science and intelligence and in the workplace, could not muster up enough extra confidence to see what he saw.

"That," he said softly. "Is exactly _why_ you are so beautiful and sexy and incredible. I don't_ want_ a model, or an actress, Sara. I want _you_."

"_You're_ incredible," she whispered back. "And you have me."

"Je t'adore, ma chérie," he said, kissing her softly. "Mon petit chou."*

Sara giggled softly. She had always found the French endearment ridiculous, before Gil had said it. But, like everything, he somehow possessed the power to make even "my little cabbage" sound charming, and she was positive that, if she were standing, she would have been very weak at the knees.

* * *

"Why did we do this?"

After ten minutes of silence and spooning, the question came from nowhere, but Gil knew exactly what it meant.

"You remember why, honey," he said. "We talked about this."

She sighed a little, wriggling around to face him.

"I know," she said.

"You, my darling wife, are too inquisitive, too intelligent to sit around and kill time until your husband gets home," he said. "You'd get bored waiting around for me."

"I never get bored of this," she said, reaching for his fingers with one of her hands and stroking his face with the other.

"Me either," he said, smiling.

She gave another small sigh.

"I just wish Vegas wasn't so far away," she said. "I want to come see you more."

"I know."

"I just… I missed you so much, it hurt."

"Trust me, I know."

"I like being here. With you. I like being home."

Gil hummed his response and pressed closer to her.

"Where are you staying, anyway?" he asked while he twisted a strand of her hair between his thumb and finger, realizing he didn't know. "I never asked."

Sara had sold her apartment years ago, when she first moved in with him. Gil sold his townhouse the day after he booked a flight to Costa Rica, figuring that if he was going to do this, he might as well go all-out.

"In a hotel," she replied simply, snuggling even closer to him.

"What? Why?"

"Well, where else would I stay?" she asked, a little confused.

"Rent a place, sweetheart."

"That doesn't make any sense," she said stubbornly. "It would sit empty every few weeks or so, and I'm not even going to be back much in the long run. Gil, a hotel's fine. I promise."

"Can't you stay with somebody?"

She was silent, picking at the threads coming out of the blanket draped around Gil's waist.

"Well… Nick… offered," she said carefully.

He turned to face her in the dark.

"That's perfect," he said. "Stay with Nick."

"That wouldn't seem… weird? I mean… you'd be okay with it?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Sara deadpanned. "Staying with another guy… I didn't want to make you feel…"

"Jealous?" he offered, smiling. "Sara, honey, it's not some skeezeball from the strip. It's _Nick_. I'd rather you stay with him than in a hotel by yourself. He'll take care of you."

She squirmed a little in his arms.

"I don't need to be taken care of."

Her tone was quiet, not argumentative.

"I know you don't, honey," he agreed softly, reaching out to cup her face. "But I worry about you when we're apart. It would make me feel better to know you're not alone."

She was quiet at this, contemplating for a moment.

"Okay," she said softly.

"Thank you."

Sara inched closer and brushed her lips against his.

"You worry too much," she whispered.

"That's because I love you too much," Gil murmured back in response.

They laid in silence once more, Gil running his fingers softly down her arm, planting sporadic kisses into her hair. He only broke the quiet contentment when he felt a drop of moisture fall onto his arm. Through the dark, he could barely make out another tear running down Sara's cheek before it too splashed onto his skin.

"Sara?"

He heard her sniffle, trying to conceal any evidence of her tears.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

He drew away from her just enough to get a good look at her, his hands still on her arms, and his voice layered with concern.

"Honey…"

He gently wiped a stray tear from her face, his hand lingering there for comfort.

"I just… I just love you," she choked. "So much."

"Oh, Sara, honey," he breathed. "I love you, too."

He pulled her head to his chest, and she let out a sob.

"Don't be upset," he soothed, one hand gripping her tightly while the other massaged her head. "Please."

"I don't want to go back," she whimpered. "I don't ever want to leave you."

At that, he had no words. Because if it were his choice, he, too, wouldn't have her leave. Ever. But he also knew that, no matter what, she came before anything. And this was good for her. She knew it, too. It was just moments like these that made it hard to remember.

"Sara," he said, running his hands down her arms as she lifted her head from his chest. "We are going to have an entire week ahead of us. And at the end of seven days, you'll be back on an airplane, no matter how badly I want you here with me every night, but I don't want us to think of that right now. We have a whole week, an entire, beautiful week, and I want to spend every moment of it with you. Okay?"

She nodded slowly, the dried tears leaving tracks on her face. He kissed her forehead.

"No matter how hard it may seem, this is all for the better," he said. "I promise you."

They sank back into the pillows, bodies pressed closer than they had been all night, and Grissom finally felt Sara drift to sleep. He didn't loosen his hold on her, but stared at her peaceful face, hoping that, at the very least, the week ahead would pass as slowly as it possibly could. He wasn't ready to be without her just yet.

* * *

*Translation: I love you, my dear. My little cabbage.

**TBC! And that marks my first attempt at smut! Your thoughts are always welcome :)**


	2. Monday

**A/N: Most of the remaining chapters are shorter, as we continue through the week. I wanted to make them longer, but three jobs and school caught up with me, so I kept it brief. Hopefully you will all still enjoy it :)**

**I did a lot of googling for the things Sara and Grissom do in Paris. My knowledge of the city is limited to one 24-hour power visit, so I apologize if any details are off from here on out.**

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* * *

Monday (Lundi)_

"It doesn't feel right… without you."

Gil smiled at her as they walked, hand in hand, through the Tuileries Garden near the Louvre. It was just one of their many favorite spots in the city.

"That's how I felt… after you left," he replied.

Sara gave his hand a small squeeze.

"I feel like, at any moment, I'll just turn a corner and you'll be there," she said as they slowed to a stroll. "Holding a jar full of bugs or something."

She grinned widely at him as they took a seat on a wooden bench.

"I miss it," he said softly, running his thumb over her hand.

They sat in silence for a while, watching, families, tourists and other couples wandering around the flourishing gardens.

"You know, Sara," Gil finally said. "Coming after you in Costa Rica was the best decision I ever made."

Sara quirked an eyebrow at him before playfully nudging his shoulder with her own.

"Look at you," she said. "Getting all sentimental."

"I'm serious, Sara."

She looked him directly in the eyes.

"I know."

She paused.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why did you ask me to marry you, that day?"

Now Gil paused, wanting to form the words exactly right.

"I could say it was impulsive, but it wasn't," he finally said. "I'd been thinking about it for ages. But I can't say it was planned, because that wasn't it either. I hadn't planned on asking you right then, right there. It just... slipped out?"

She laughed.

"In that moment, looking at you, after all we'd been through the last few weeks, it just hit me how much I really loved you," he continued. "I... I've never been the marriage type. But I always knew that I'd spend the rest of my life with you. Even back in San Francisco, at that fated conference. I just... had to ask you."

"I'm glad you did," Sara said softly.

Gil smiled.

"Me too."

He studied her face, smiling, as the glaring sun behind her created a halo-like glow around her head. His hand moved up towards her neck and he pulled her closer, drawing her and kissing her deeply. In their second display of PDA in two days, they sat for several minutes, making out like kids, in the middle of the Jardin des Tuileries. When they pulled away, Sara bit her lip, grinning foolishly.

"What's gotten into you?" she joked. "Maybe I should go away more often."

"Please don't."

"Deal."

Sara wiggled on the bench a little, so that her back was leaning into him. He stretched an arm around her shoulder and felt her head on his.

"I love the history of this place," Gil said softly, gazing around. "Napoleon used to call the palace home."

"As did many Louises."

He could see a small smile creeping onto her face.

"I told you already," he said, a smile of his own on his features.

"You did," she admitted. "But I like hearing you talk about it."

"I bet it was a sight to behold," Gil continued at her urging. "Before the demolition in 1882… such a shame. Reconstruction on any cultural jewel… it can never be quite what it was."

Gil tilted his head, realizing that Sara wasn't admiring the views like he was. She was staring straight at him.

"What?"

"_You're_ a sight to behold," she said.

He gave her a questioning look.

"Let's go home."

He opened his mouth to protest, he had planned to spend all day here, until he saw that familiar glint in her eyes. They needed to get home. _Now_.


	3. Tuesday

**A/N: Sorry to leave you hanging with the smut. You'll have to wait a little, but there'll be more, I promise!**

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* * *

Tuesday (Mardi)_

"The Kaye Shelton case."

Sara stared at him.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," Gil smiled. "That was the when I _knew_ I was in love with you."

They were playing one of their favorite games, 20 Questions. Except it usually turned into 50 questions, as they both loved learning more about the other. And this time, they were playing it over a candlelit dinner at one of Paris' most romantic restaurants, Le Grand Véfour.

Suddenly, Sara's lips were curling into a smile.

"I asked you to sleep with me," she said, bemused and a little shocked remembering her own actions.

"Yeah, you did," Gil said, his eyes twinkling at her.

"Well, I… I didn't _exactly_ mean in it that way…"

"Yeah, you did."

Sara raised an eyebrow at him.

"Anyways, when I saw you so passionate, so… fiery… I knew I'd never met a girl quite as intriguing as you."

Sara smiled.

"You would have taken a punch at that guy, if I hadn't stopped you," Gil continued, now also smiling.

"Well, he was a prick."

Gil beamed at her.

"Yes, he was."

She was leaning towards him, elbows on the table, her eyes flickering in the candlelight like they did in the sunlight the afternoon before. He fought hard to keep her eyes on hers, and not letting them wander down her neck to the sufficient amount of cleavage that was peeking out from her silky black dress.

"Your favorite… childhood memory."

He held her gaze as he thought. This was a rule of their game – all answers had to be genuine. No cop-outs.

"You tell me if this counts, because it's more than one memory," he said. "But when I was around ten years old, my mother started taking me to silent films. It was the one place she could find where her disability… wasn't a disability. Most kids my age were watching action movies, but I loved it. It became a tradition. We went every Friday after she got home from work, shared a big bucket of popcorn and she let me drink soda. We signed about the movie the whole way home."

Gil paused and smiled in recollection.

"Your turn," she said softly.

"The best day in your life."

She pursed her lips ever so slightly, in the way the he loved so much and found incredibly alluring. Her eyes were twinkling again.

"The day you asked me to marry you," she said simply.

Gil's hand darted out to grasp hers, and he gave her fingers a squeeze.

"God, Sara," he said. "What did I do to deserve you?"

Sara's response came in the form of a smile, and he knew that she was thinking the very same thing.

The waiter cut in to deliver their dishes, fois gras ravioles for Sara and lemon chicken breast with ratatouille for Gil. It looked exquisite. It wasn't often that they had a chance to dress up and enjoy each other's company in a five-star restaurant, and Gil had every intention of enjoying every minute and every bite.

"How's yours?" he asked.

"Amazing," Sara murmured back, holding her fork out to him.

Gil nodded appreciatively as he accepted her food and offered her a bite of his.

"Gil," Sara said slowly. "I love this. All of this… it's amazing. But I hope you don't think I expect this. You don't have to impress me."

"I know," he said quietly. "I did all this because I love you."

He slipped a hand into his coat pocket, drawing out a long, thin velvet box and pushing it across the table towards Sara.

"Gil," she said. "What is this?"

"For you," he said, nudging it even closer.

She gave him curious look before accepting the box and cracking it open. Her gasp was loud enough for him to hear, her mouth dropped slightly.

"Gil," she whispered. "It's beautiful."

She fingered the delicate diamond tennis necklace lying in the box's velvet plush. She looked up at him with teary eyes.

"You really didn't have to do this," she said.

"I wanted to," he assured her.

She took the necklace out of its box, fingers trembling as she fumbled with the clasp.

"Here, let me," he said gently, rising from his chair and making his way over to her. He draped the necklace around her, fastened the clasp, and planted a light kiss on her neck before returning to his seat. She touched the diamonds delicately.

"I love it."

Gil smiled at her.

"Beautiful," he said. "And the necklace isn't half bad either."

Sara gave a choked laugh as a small tear snuck its way out of the corner of her eye. Truth be told, Gil felt he actually _had_ needed to do something like this. Although he and Sara loved each other endlessly, he still felt guilty for the years spent in limbo, the years spent running around in circles because of his inability to make a decision and take a risk. He was only lucky that Sara was still there, when he finally saw the light. For years to come, he knew he would still be trying to make it up to her, make up for lost time.

Their entire night was as amazing as the food. They shared hazelnut and milk chocolate caramel ice cream for desert, and when they stepped outside, Gil's coat draped around Sara's shoulders, fireworks burst out in the Paris night sky. Gil stopped where they were and leaned in to kiss her.

"Wow," Sara whispered in his ear.

"I have to admit, I can't take full credit for the fireworks," Gil chuckled.

"Well, it was still pretty incredible."

Gil brushed her lips against her cheek and slipped an arm around her waist.

"I love you, Sara," he said.

"I love you, Gil," she smiled. "_Beaucoup_."*

* * *

**Hmm Wednesday feels like a smutty day. Leave a review for smut! Whoooo! **

*a lot


	4. Wednesday

**A/N: Thank you all for your feedback, I broke my record for number of reviews on one story! Whoo! So, not to keep you waiting, I give you: Wednesday!**

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* * *

Wednesday (Mercredi)_

"It is way too freaking early," Sara mumbled into Gil's chest as he reached to silence their beeping alarm.

The red numbers glared 5:00. Gil groaned and pulled Sara closer to him. She settled her head on his chest, her arm resting on his shoulder.

"We have a long drive, dear," he said into her hair.

"I know."

"We don't have to go, if you don't want to."

Sara picked her head up, propping in her hand.

"No, I want to go," she said at his skeptical gaze. "I do! It's just the last lingering jet lag. C'mon."

She slid her legs from their deep blue, silk sheets and tugged on his hand. They gathered up the remaining items to be packed, dressed, and loaded two small suitcases into the trunk of Gil's car. By 5:30 a.m., they were on the road, headed to the place Sara had longed to visit since they'd moved to France – Nice.

The eight hours Gil spent behind the wheel seemed like minutes, with Sara's company to keep him occupied. They pulled up to their beautiful hotel, Le Palais de la Mediterranee, around 2 p.m. Bellboys swooped their car to take their luggage and a valet took Gil's key. Within twenty minutes, they were changed and on their way to the beach.

"This is so nice," Sara sighed, hand-in-hand with Gil and a large beach bag on her freckled shoulder.

Gil couldn't help but smile at her unintended pun, and it earned him a light smack on the shoulder.

"I'm serious," she laughed. "Four days ago, I was crouching over evidence on the Las Vegas strip, coming home to a drafty hotel, and now, I'm on my way to the most beautiful beach in the world… with my favorite person in the world."

Gil's smile widened and he gave Sara a peck on the cheek as they walked up to Villefranche sur Mer, the purpose of their trip. There were several groups of beachgoers dotting the shoreline, but it was much quieter than the more tourist-y places in town. They found a peaceful spot, a distance away from the other huddled beach towels, and spread their blanket.

Sara pulled off her pale blue tank top, shimmed out of her shorts and kicked off her sandals. She laid on the towel, her closed eyes squinting a little in the bright sunlight, soaking up the warm rays. Gil stood frozen in place. She was apparently completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. Her body more exposed than she would usually allow in public, she was covered only by a small black bikini.

He stared at her, whipping his sunglasses off dramatically, unable to take his eyes off her. The way the light breeze tousled her mess of curls, the slow rise and fall of her strong, smooth stomach, and the curve of her chest. She raised a hand to shade her eyes and stared back at him.

"Are you coming down here or what?"

He continued to gape.

"What?" she asked, a smile creeping across her face.

"You… are exquisite," he said.

"And you're a cheeseball," she laughed, even though she knew he was serious. She tugged on his hand. "C'mon."

He relented at her tug and pulled his shirt off too, stretching beside her. They laid like that for hours, listening to the soft crash of the waves on the shore and the faint chatter of the tourists near by, interrupting their sunbathing every so often for a prolonged kiss. By the time they left, Sara actually had a glow – in more ways than one. She was positively beaming by the time they reached their hotel suite for a shower.

He couldn't have asked for a more perfect night. Their shared shower, another candlelit dinner on the Promenade des Anglais, accompanied by the best bottle of wine either of them had ever had. Their conversation, ranging from everything from Greg's new haircut to Sara's deepest fears and Gil's dearest ambitions.

When they were back in their suite, things only got better. Recognizing how well he had pleasured her her first night home, Sara decided to take very, very good care of Gil. His hips had just barely made contact with the mattress before she was she was straddling him, removing his shirt and massaging him every inch of him simultaneously with her hands and her tongue. Her slow, passionate kisses left warm, wet trails down his skin. Eventually, as she made her way down him, she slipped her hands inside his boxers and pulled them down, already starting to tease him by flicking her tongue over his tip.

"Saraaaa," he groaned. "Honeeeeey…"

She took pity on him and took him in her mouth, slowly stroking him as she sucked. Gil could do nothing but lay there in astonishment, his body giving involuntary jerks at each touch. Only Sara could do this to him.

She worked him good with her tongue, as her hands massaged his testicles and crept around to his backside. Her fingers found an opening and she moved inside him, stroking him slowly. Panting and sweaty, he put his hands on her head, pushing himself deeper into her mouth. He found himself gripping her hair as everything tightened. His moans were loud, and as he came, his entire body shuddered with uncontrollable spasms. Sara took him out of her mouth, still massaging his manhood, but now kissing him on the lips.

He realized she was still fully dressed, which he immediately deemed an absolute crime. He removed each piece slowly, enjoying the feel of her soft, milky skin, especially when it was left with only the contrasting black bra and panties covering it. He was still kissing her fiercely as he unhooked her bra and took a nipple into his mouth. When her eyes squeezed shut and her head thrashed backwards, he couldn't help it. He had to feel her.

He slid two fingers inside of her panties, feeling a warm wetness already there. He couldn't help but grin at her, and she gave a bashful smile back, as if to say, "_I can't help it! Can you blame me?_"

His fingers worked their magic until her body was trembling at his touch.

"Please," she breathed. "Now. _Please_."

He wanted to continue teasing her, but he remembered her obedience when he'd asked, and similarly took pity on her.

He positioned both of them so that they were sitting facing each other on the bed. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he put his hands on hers, thrusting himself into her. She nearly fell back into the pillows, but he held tight to her, pushing harder every second. They both moaned. In sync, they both began to bend backward, so far that they were nearly upside down. But this position gave Gil easy access into her, and with all his might, he shoved himself in deeper and deeper. His thighs were quivering, and so were hers. Across their tangled body parts, he could see Sara's small but perky breasts bouncing as he thrusted. The sight of it made him come, even harder and longer than before. As he moaned, he could hear her sighing over him. She was coming too. They stayed locked together for as long as possible, until their ravished and fatigued bodies collapsed on the sheets.

Only minutes later, Sara's thighs were straddling Gil's hips, her hands kneading circles on his back in a slow, sensual massage. It was too good to be real.

As Sara slid from atop him and kissed him goodnight, he couldn't help but remember that in four days time, she would be leaving him. She fell asleep quickly, her breathing becoming slow and even, and he propped his elbow on the mattress, running his finger up and down her arm, just looking at her.

He would miss so many things about having her here, but nothing more so than falling asleep beside her every night, and waking up to her warm body each morning. He gave a small sigh as he kissed her head, reaching his arm across her stomach and joining her in sleep.


	5. Thursday

**A/N: Glad you all enjoyed the smutty smut :) **

**Also, after all my Googling, I really want to go to Nice now. Just sayin'. ENJOY!**

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Thursday (Jeudi)_

They awoke Thursday to a warm and beautiful day. They set off early, arriving at the Cours Saleya Flower Market just in time for breakfast.

"We should come back, sometime," Sara said as she stirred cream into her coffee.

"Merci," Gil nodded to the waiter placing his cup before him.

He turned back towards Sara.

"Anything you want."

Sara smiled.

"You know, Sara," Gil said slowly. "I've been thinking, and… maybe I'll come visit you sometime."

Sara's eyes widened.

"Really?"

Gil nodded.

"But… do you _want_ to come back to Vegas?" she asked. "I mean, I don't mind coming back here. There's much more to do, anyways."

"Sara," Gil said softly. "I don't want you to have to do all the work, always traveling. I'm part of this marriage too. And I want to see you."

"Okay," Sara said, smiling over the rim of her mug. "I'll talk to Catherine when I get back… see when she can spare me next."

She paused.

"You know, I bet the guys would love to see you."

"I'd like to see them, too," Gil replied. "But they'll have a hard time tearing me away from you."

Sara flashed him another grin. He loved making her smile.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Sara," he said. "Every moment you were gone, I wished you were here."

"I'm here now," Sara said, reaching across the table for his hand.

"That you are," Gil smiled. "And you have an empty bag, that needs to be filled."

Gil winked at her, tossing a few Euros on the table for their coffees, and they couple set out to the market. Within hours, the burlap bag Sara carried was full of treasures – a bottle of wine, handfuls of soaps and oils, household items, a scarf and a homemade messenger bag for Sara, a t-shirt for Gil. Sara had even sweet-talked her way into buying a piece of art for their bedroom, which was now wrapped in paper and tucked under Gil's arm. They stopped at their car to deposit their purchases before heading out to their last Nice attraction – Le Chateau.

It was mid-afternoon, but clouds began rolling over, which made the hike up the grounds much more enjoyable. Grasping Sara's hand, they wandered around the ruins, stood in awe over the view of the city, visited the graveyard and even asked a tourist to take their picture by the waterfall.

The clouds above them began to turn a menacing gray by early evening and a light rain began to moisten their heads.

"We should head back down, honey," Gil said. "We've got a long drive back."

He pulled her away from Le Chateau's views, making their way back down the hill. They only made it halfway before the skies exploded, showering them with pounding rain. Sara let out a shriek as they ran the rest of the way to their car, throwing the doors open and slamming them behind them. They sat in the front seats, panting hard as they caught their breath.

Gil looked over at Sara as she turned towards him. Droplets of water were running down her face, her brown hair almost black, plastered to her face, and her clothing sticking to her like glue. She stared at him, curls limp from the unexpected shower, drops sticking to his beard. They burst out laughing.

"Just our luck," Sara managed to say, clutching her stomach.

"Wet is a good look for you," Gil chuckled, watching as she tried to wring out her jacket.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but leaned over the console, rewarding him for his compliment with a long, lingering kiss.

"Let's stay one more night," Sara breathed.

"I can't," Gil groaned. "I have a meeting in the morning – mandatory. I couldn't get out of it."

If she was disappointed at all, Sara hid it well. She lifted the corner of her mouth and gave him one last peck on the cheek.

"Okay," she said, leaning back into her own seat. "Let's go home."

Twenty minutes down the road, Sara fell fast asleep, her head leaning against the car's window. He took his eyes off the road for a brief second to look over at her and smile. He reached in the backseat for the shirt he had purchased that morning. Fishing it out of its bag, he leaned over and wedged it underneath Sara's head, giving her some padding against the cold window. He gave her hand a squeeze before putting both of his own hands back on the wheel. Gil had no clue why, but a few minutes later, he started talking to her.

"You want to know something stupid?" he said, a whisper of a smile on his face. "You used to scare the hell out of me."

He glanced over at her.

"Yeah, I know," he continued. "Told you it was stupid. But… from the moment I met you, in San Francisco, I couldn't get you out of my head. And _that_ scared the hell out of me. Then, all of a sudden, you were in Vegas. And I wanted you to stay, so badly. So I asked. And you stayed."

He paused, remembering.

"And then you were around me, so close, all the time. And all I wanted was… _you_. But so many things worked against us and I just… couldn't."

He sighed.

"I don't deserve you, Sara. Not after all I put you through. I count my blessings every day that you were still there, when I finally came to my senses. I could have very easily have lost my chance and lost you forever. And that… I would have not been able to handle."

He smiled, looking at her again.

"I have no idea why I can't say this to you when you're actually listening," Gil said, chuckling softly in spite of himself. "I guess that's just… me. You know that. But I hope you know how much I am in love with you. You are an incredible woman, Sara, and it is profoundly incredible that I can call you mine. You are the best decision I ever made, the best part of my life."

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"You're everything to me," he whispered. "I really… _really_ hope you know that. I, uh… I can't imagine life without you."

He let out a long, deep sigh and kept his gaze fixated hard on the road ahead. If he had let his eyes flicker over towards her just once more, he might have seen Sara's head lift just slightly off his rumpled t-shirt, her eyes cracked open, and a tear sliding down her cheek and the faintest small smile on her face.

* * *

**I'm on schedule with the actual week now! I'll post Friday on Friday, Saturday on Saturday and Sunday on Sunday, when we are at the end :( I really want to thank you all for reading, this has turned into one of my favorite stories and I love knowing that you are enjoying it!**


	6. Friday

**A/N: I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. I tried adding more, but nothing came out sounding right. I hope you guys think it's okay!**

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Friday (Vendredi) _

"You've outdone yourself."

Sara's eyes had widened when Gil had produced the tickets from his jacket pocket. And now, grasping his hand and walking towards the boat, she was still shaking her head in awe.

"You have been more romantic this week than you have in eleven years," she said with a smirk.

He playfully bumped her shoulder.

"What are you trying to say?"

She gave him an equally playful look.

"That you should keep it up."

"Dually noted."

Gil handed their tickets to a well-dressed man standing before them.

"Madame, monsieur," the man nodded. "J'espère que vous apprécierez votre croisière de soleil sur la Seine."*

"Merci, beaucoup," Gil nodded back, leading Sara by the hand.

They took a seat at their table, right on the edge of the boat, looking over at the shimmering water.

"This week has been… amazing," Sara said once they had settled in. "Thank you."

Gil smiled at her in response.

"I really… don't want to go back," Sara sighed.

"I bet they miss you at the lab," Gil said.

Sara sighed again.

"Why can't we ever have all the people we love in one place?"

"Because that would be too easy," Gil said, half-joking and half-serious. "You know, Sara, you don't _have_ to go. If you really don't want to."

"I know," Sara said, pausing. "But… I think you're right. I do have to do this, even if it's hard sometimes."

"Or hard all the time."

Sara took a moment to sit and stare at her husband.

"I love you so much."

Gil reached across the table for her hand and squeezed it.

"Especially when you look as snazzy as you do tonight," Sara added, grinning.

Gil raised his eyebrows and gave a fake adjustment to his tie.

"Yeah? You like?"

"Very much."

Sara left her seat and made her way around the table, planting herself in Gil's lap. He put her hands on her waist as her fingers gently caressed his hair.

"Je t'aime," she whispered.**

"Je t'aime, aussi," he breathed.***

The couple talked their way through dinner, this time most of the conversation focusing on their research grant and what they would finally be able to do when it came through. Gil loved how Sara's eyes lit up with passion at the topic.

When the last crumbs of their crème brûlée were scraped up with Sara's fork, Gil took her hand and led her to the side of the boat, gliding soundlessly through the Seine. The Paris sun was almost set, casting a magnificent glow on the cityscape around them.

Gil slipped his arm around Sara's waist as she turned her head towards him.

"I feel like we're on a honeymoon or something," she laughed. "This is amazing."

"Well, seeing as I had you dressed in coveralls in a canoe for our real honeymoon, this is the least I could do," Gil said with a smile. "And while you look good in anything, I'm rather enjoying this view."

He gestured appreciatively to Sara's dress, a silky maroon and teal, runched number**** that Sara had only purchased a few days before she left Vegas to quiet Catherine's nagging.

_"Sara," she had said, hands on her hips in the dressing room. "You're going to Paris. You think you're going to wear jeans every day and all night? Please. Let Gil enjoy himself a little." _

Truth be told, while Sara did prefer jeans and a t-shirt to any other sort of clothing, she really didn't mind dressing every once in a while. Especially if it was for him.

The corner of Sara's mouth curled up as Gil leant down to give her a kiss. He wrapped his arms tightly around her as her own arms snaked around his neck. He kissed her for minutes on end, breaking away only to admire the view of the deep crimson sunset before them.

"Look," Sara breathed, her lips still close to Gil's. "It's amazing."

Gil pulled his gaze from the sunset and directed it back towards his wife.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

Sara met his gaze and gave him a shy, happy smile. He brushed a wayward curl from her eye.

At the beginning of the night, Gil had felt a slight exhaustion from the week's activities, especially their jaunt to Nice. But there was something that he was never too tired for. He would never, ever tire of kissing his wife.

His fingers traced Sara's jaw line as he leant closer to press his lips against her once more. The feeling he got from kissing her… those shivers? One more thing he would never tire of.

* * *

*"I hope that you enjoy your Sunset cruise on the Seine."

**I love you.

***I love you too (also).

****I'm picturing the dress Jorja wore on the TV Guide cover with Marg… I think it's gorgeous!

**Was it a blaah chapter? I'm sorry. Saturday and Sunday are good ones, I promise. And there'll be a last dash of smut before Sara heads home to Vegas :)**


	7. Saturday

**A/N: It's 12:53 a.m. here, which means it's officially Saturday and I can post this. Yay!**

**Enjoy :)**

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Saturday (Samedi)_

"I cannot _believe_ we've never done this before!"

The excitement in Sara's voice was matched by the sparkle in her eyes. The chilly night air left their noses and cheeks red and raw, but, walking gloved hand in gloved hand, the couple was utterly zealous. They boarded an unusually empty elevator and began the trip to the top of Paris' most famous attraction, the _Tour Eiffel. _When the elevator doors opened with a soft _ding_, Gil couldn't help but smile. Sara's jaw had dropped, one hand pressed to her chest, the other still in his. She led him to the edge of the tower, and they stood in silence, gazing out at the beautiful, twinkling lights of Paris.

"Incredible," she whispered.

They meandered around the perimeter of the balcony, speechless, as they took in the sights, letting it all sink in. Finally, Sara spoke.

"Is this not the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

She was looking out into the distance, where the ground met the sky and the twinkling lights faded into the darkness. But he was staring straight at her. The wind whisked her hair around her face, whipped the blue scarf behind her shoulder and created two rosy patches on her cheeks. When she turned to look at him, she was positively radiant.

"No," he said in response to her question.

Sara folded her arms in front of her in an irresistibly endearing way.

"Oh yeah? What could possibly compare?"

Gil quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I'm looking at her."

Her expression softened as she smiled at him. He reached out to tame her wildly flying hair, finally giving up and kissing her through the strands. Now one of the only couples left, Gil took advantage of the extra space and spun Sara around, backing her against one of the iron beams and kissing her even more deeply, passionately.

"This is incredible," Sara said when they broke apart. "You are incredible. Thank you."

Gil smiled at her.

"It will give you something to look back on," he said. "Until… until next time."

Sara's expression saddened at the mention of their last night together. Not wanting it to spoil the rest of their evening, Gil dipped his head into the crook of her neck.

"The night's still young," he whispered. "Let's go home, and I'll show you why Paris is _really _called the City of Love."

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me."

Sara was staring at him, wide-eyed. Gil flashed her a boyish grin. It was selfish… he knew it would make her do whatever he wanted.

"'I've heard it's… fun," he said, barely containing his laugh.

Sara walked over to him and took his face in her hands.

"Who are you, and what did you do with my husband?" she asked, playfully poking at his cheeks.

"Please, honey?"

He put on his most pitiful pouty face, knowing that if that didn't do the trick, nothing would.

It did the trick.

Sara rolled her eyes and took the can from his hands, muttering as she made her way towards their bed.

"Whipped cream? _Seriously?_"

Gil grinned in his victory, already getting things started by unbuttoning his shirt. Sara's eyes went wide when he reached the second.

"Wait!"

His fingers froze, and he gave her a confused but seductive look.

"I can't believe… holy crap… I _forgot_!"

With that, Sara grabbed her suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Gil's fingers still lingering on his button, a bewildered look on his face.

He took a seat on the edge of the mattress, and waited a few minutes before calling to her.

"Um… Sara?" he said. "Honey? You kinda… left me hanging here…"

"One minute!" came Sara's muffled response. "I'll be right…"

The sliding door to the bathroom opened, and Gil's mouth, literally, dropped. Sara, his Sara, looked like something from a movie, or a romance novel, dressed in only the most seductively transparent, lacy red lingerie and a sheer black wrap. She had pinned her hair back, which she had been leaving curly all week, knowing that was how he liked it best, letting a few strands fall loose. Taking a glance at his astonished face, she pursed her lips a little and struck a pose.

"Sara," he breathed. "Wow."

"I know it's not really me," Sara said distractedly, falling out of her pose and tugging at the wrap. "But… I wanted to do something special for you. Since I'd been gone so long and all…"

Gil was at her side before she finished, hands on her waist.

"Get over here," he growled.

He flung her onto the bed, beginning to crawl on top of her. Before he knew it, she was flipping him around, reaching for the can of cream and aiming it at his chest. It spurted and sputtered, but no fluffy, sweet cream came out. She turned the nozzle towards herself, examining it, before it _did _spray… all over her face.

She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, whipped cream all over her nose and mouth. They both burst out laughing.

"Thank god I married you," Gil laughed.

He leaned towards her and licked the cream off her before rolling them around so that he, once again, was straddling her. He spread the cream onto her chest and proceeded to lick it off her. When he was finished, he continued to kiss her on the chest, making her way up her neck and behind her ear. She let out a soft sigh, running her hands through his hair.

His hands crept around her back, shrugging off the wrap, and unhooking the red bra off his wife. He threw it aside and it caught on the closet doorknob. She laughed softly as she slid her hands down his back and into his boxers. He couldn't help but shudder.

They rolled around in the bed, wrestling with the whipped cream can, Sara getting her turn to spray Gil, then teasing each other until neither of them could take it any longer.

Gil paused before he entered her, taking a moment to gaze down at her, pressed underneath his body. She was gazing up at him, with such sincere and honest love that he already felt his body shake with pleasure.

Maybe it was knowing that tonight was the last night for a long while that he'd be able to make love to his wife, but there was something explosive about their chemistry that night, that made every touch electric and, at the end, caused fireworks to burst behind his eyes.

Afterward, they lay in the twisted sheets, Sara curled against him, her hand on his chest, and his hand on hers, Gil felt a wayward tear squeeze its way out of the corner of his eye. He loved Sara, more than anything or anyone he had ever loved before. It was overwhelming, the love and care and protection he felt for her, enveloping his entire being and taking him over. He loved being with her, being next to her. He loved everything about her. And most of all, he loved that she loved him for all the same reasons.

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**That brings us one step closer to the end! If you've made it this far, let me know what you thought/enjoyed/disliked. Reviews absolutely positively make my day brighter. **


	8. La Séparation

**A/N: Well, my friends, we've reached the end. I want to thank every one of you for reading, and especially those of you who reviewed, you make my day. Supersized helpings of thanks to sarapals with past50, CSIfan8686, Billyjorja, gsrfan34 and edge15684 for consistently bringing me smiles with your reviews. **

**I hope you enjoy :)**

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Sunday (Dimanche) _

Breakfast was a subdued affair. They talked over their coffees and croissants, but all words were said in a hushed tone that seemed to betray what each speaker was really feeling. They knew it was coming. It was coming faster, and each passing second signaled another second together, gone.

All too soon, they were standing on the sidewalk of Charles de Gaulle, Sara's carry-on between them, each of them not wanting to say the words that had to be said.

"Gil-"

"Sara-"

They smiled as they other blurted the words at the very same time. Sara could feel the tears welling behind her eyes, a pressure building in her chest to not let them spill out. Gil smiled at her shyly. He reached out to tuck as strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers running across her shoulder, down her arm and stopping at her hand. He locked his fingers within hers and began to pull her into him. She took small steps and pressed into him. When his arms wrapped around her, it was too much, and she burst into tears.

With her fingers grasping at his back, Gil couldn't even muster the words to comfort her, due to the stream of tears running down his own face. He felt her shaking in his arms, and he wanted comfort her, protect her, stand there, forever, holding her. He wanted to never, ever let go.

Slowly, reluctantly, they pulled inches apart. Gil reached down to kiss her, communicating all that he felt in the touch of their lips. They pulled apart again, breathless and needy, wanting more, but out of time. He handed her the carry-on and tickets.

"I'll see you soon," he said softly.

She nodded in response.

"Take care of yourself," he added. "Be careful."

"I love you," she said, even quieter than him.

"I love you too, Sara," he said. "I'll be waiting for you."

She swallowed hard and turned towards the glass doors, tickets in hand. She had only walked a few steps before turning to face him again.

"I'll miss you."

"More than anything."

Gil watched her go, as long as he could, but soon, her head disappeared into the crowd.

As Sara headed towards security, she pulled her passport from her jeans pocket and tried to stifle the hyperventilating tears that were threatening to spill out once more. She handed her papers to the guard and took long, slow breaths.

"Ah, Las Vegas, oui?"

Sara nodded, managing the tiniest of smiles.

"Safe trip home," the guard said in a thick accent, handing her the passport and ticket.

She headed towards the line.

"Mademoiselle?"

Sara turned.

"Zee flight… it ees only _dix heures_. You will see 'im soon."

At that, Sara couldn't help but smile. She gave him a quick _merci_ before piling her things into an airport bin, pulling her cell out of her pocket to switch it off. She had a text.

"_Je t'aime plus que tout, mon petit chou. A bientôt, mon amour."* _

She paused for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut and smiling, before tapping out a quick response and resuming her journey back.

* * *

Back at the car, still parked in the drop-off lane, Gil smiled at the received message.

_"Je compte les jours jusqu'à ce que je vous reverrai. Jusque-là."** _

Six weeks was far too long. But if anything in his experience taught him anything, it was this: Sara was always worth the wait.

* * *

**The end.**

*"I love you more than anything, my little cabbage. See you soon, my love."

**I am counting the days until I see you again. Until then.


End file.
